e Rauskukle.
He had enough money to get through two years, with economy. His life was
as simple and dull as it had been in Schoenstrom. He studied while he
cooked his scrappy meals; he pinned mathematical formulae and mechanical
diagrams on the wall, and pored over them while he was dressing--or
while he was trying to break in the new shoes, which were beautiful,
squeaky, and confoundedly tight.

He was taking French and English and "composition-writing" in addition
to engineering, and he made out a schedule of life as humorlessly as a
girl grind who intends to be a Latin teacher. When he was not at work,
or furiously running and yanking chest-weights in the gymnasium, he was
attending concerts, lectures.

Studying the life about him, he had discovered that the best way to save
time was to avoid the lazy friendships of college; the pipe-smoking,
yawning, comfortable, rather heavy, altogether pleasant wondering about
"what'll we do next?" which occupies at least four hours a day for the
average man in college. He would have liked it, as he had liked long
talks about nothing with Bill McGolwey at the Old Home Lunch. But he
couldn't afford it. He had to be ready to----

That was the point at which his reflections always came up with a jolt.
He was quite clear about the method of getting ready, but he hadn't the
slightest idea of what he was getting ready for. The moment he had
redecided to marry Claire, he saw that his only possible future would be
celibate machinery-installing in Alaska; and the moment he was content
with the prospect of an engineer's camp in Alaskan wilds, his thoughts
went crazily fluttering after Claire.

Despite his aloofness, Milt was not unpopular in his class. The
engineers had few of them the interest in dances, athletics, college
journalism, which distinguished the men in the academic course. They
were older, and more conscious of a living to earn. And Milt's cheerful,
"How's the boy?" his manner of waving his hand--as though to a good
customer leaving the Red Trail Garage with the generator at last
tamed--indicated that he was a "good fellow."

One group of collegians Milt did seek. It is true that he had been
genuine in scorning social climbers. But it is also true that the men
whom he sought to know were the university smart set. Their satisfaction
in his allegiance would have been lessened, however, had they known how
little he cared for what they thought of him, and with what cruel
dir